The furrow could be easily hidden with a lock from her beautiful hair. If she had only talked to some old women from her home village, surely they would have found a natural potion to make it disappear. She only had to sing once more—at her engagement party. After that, she would make something up—like losing her voice after screaming too loud; or perhaps a dreadful nightmare would make her forever lose that wonderful voice...
But she couldn't brush off the feeling that this was only the beginning. That this unearthly healing voice would only bring sorrow upon her. And then she decided there was no time to linger. She would find the cure for this spell herself. And where else but the library could she find everything she needed to know?
She almost knocked down everything that stood in her way towards the library. When she got there, she suddenly stopped, not knowing where search in that ocean of books standing before her. She began with the farthest point of the library. In front of her stood books of all sizes, with titles written in languages she couldn't understand. So she looked through the books written in her language. Even though, as thick as they were, it would have taken her weeks to only one of them...
She was interrupted by a cough behind her. Turning slowly, she discovered the Prince lying on his favourite couch. And she gave herself an inner quarrel for forgetting to check the library before entering.
'Looking for a book, in particular, Princess?' he asked on a cheerful tone.
He was looking better. His leg was stretched on the couch.
'Em, a cookbook,' babbled Eliza. 'I want to make something special for the engagement party.'
'Then you're on the wrong row. The cookbooks are on row twenty-five, column fourteen.' And the Prince showed her a slate hanging from a clamp next to the reading table. There were written all the fields to which the books belonged to—astronomy, war, architecture, music, philosophy and many more of which Eliza had never heard of in her life.
'I would like to thank you for what you did for me that day...' he added. 'When I returned from the battlefield...' He was hesitating, trying his best not to look at her. 'I don't remember much, but I found out I owe you my life. I don't know what cured me. Your voice or the medicine you sprinkled on my wound... Whatever it was, the doctors say that my leg miraculously healed. Nobody would have made it alive after such a wound.'
Eliza decided it wasn't the proper time to search wizardry books under the Prince's nose. So she moved one step closer, thinking a future queen would pay attention to her king.
'You don't have to thank me,' she said trying to act all with calm. 'I would have done it for anyone.'
Instead, she noticed him as she slowly sat on the chair in front of him. She had never seen him acting so kindly, and he seemed very handsome, even in those dark clothes, too sober for his age. He wasn't wearing his crown and his black hair rested on his shoulders. A lock kept sliding over his forehead and Eliza thought of properly arranging it, but quickly changed her mind. She noticed that she was all adrift when she was around him, and an unfamiliar chill went through her entire being, ending up in her stomach. Could it be...?
'Anyway, thank you,' he said, nudging in her train of thoughts. 'I know you must feel lonely, being so far from home. And I haven't been the best host... But the engagement is close and you will be able to see your family again. And, once you become a Queen, they can visit you anytime you like.'
'Thank you, Your Majesty,' said Eliza bowing her head. To her surprise, she felt a heat wave taking over her every time she looked at him.
'Gabriel...' smiled the Prince. 'My name is Gabriel. I think it's about time we call ourselves by our names, don't you agree? What do they call you back home?'
'Eli...Mara. They call me Mara,' said Eliza quickly, biting her tongue.
'It's an honour knowing you, Eli-Mara,' laughed the Prince bowing his head and stretching out his hand.
The girl held his hand, and for a moment they just stood there, hand in hand, looking at each other. In a brief moment, they pulled back their hands and tried to find something to look at. Eliza chose her dress' hem, and the Prince set his eyes on the cover of the book that seemed very interesting all of a sudden.
'Well, Mara, in a few days my leg will heal and I'll go back to war... I'm afraid we'll have to postpone the engagement.'
Eliza stood up, being unable to believe what she was hearing.
'What?! After everything that happened you still want to go to war?'
The cheerfulness ran off from the Prince's face. 'Of course. No country I waged war on has remained unconquered. If I hadn't been wounded...' 'I don't understand. Why are you doing this? Why do you sow hate and sorrow everywhere you go?'
'Because others have sowed pain in my heart when they killed my parents. When they killed my father... He used to tell me "Son, always count on honour and justice. Only using them will you succeed." He was the most honourable and peaceful King, one that wouldn't harm anyone in the world. And what good was that?'
'And that's why you pour your hatred on innocent people? What did they do to you?' almost shouted Eliza. Her eyes were piercing him. And the Prince was close to falling on the divan, that's how surprised he was with her audacity. No one has ever spoken to him like that.
'I need the strongest army to beat these forces,' he said trying to calm himself down, even though his cheeks were increasingly turning red. 'You don't know how evil they are. If the prophecy comes true, next spring will bring the most dreadful fight this world has ever seen. Either they or we will triumph. But I'm not giving in without a fight.'
'What prophecy are you talking about? Why doesn't anybody tell me anything?'
The Prince took a deep breath, 'Fine! Tonight, at midnight, come to the Council Room. You will find out more there. Now you can retire.'
And thus saying, the Prince went back to his reading like she wasn't even there. Eliza stormed out of the library, slamming the heavy door behind her and didn't stop until she reached her chamber. She found herself talking alone, going from one end of the room to another.
'I hate him, I hate him! How could I have ever thought I might feel something for him?'
●
When the clock stroke midnight, Eliza put on a cape over her dress, grabbed the lamp and darted like a ghost to the Council Room. She received instructions from a servant sent by the Prince, who, in great secrecy, in a low voice, barely heard, told her where she should go, where to sit, how to behave in such a restricted medium as one of the Wise.
She crossed long and winding hallways, went up three floors, right through the heart of the castle, stopped in front of a set of ebony doors.
Like all doors in the castle, these were also imposing. She noticed that apart from other doors, they were decorated with grapevine trunks and encrusted in the middle with the coat of arms of the castle: two eagles, each carrying a sword—the symbol of righteousness. She grabbed the heavy hook on the door and knocked loudly.
The doors opened slowly and Eliza stepped inside looking determined. Or so she let believe for her heart was panting like she was a deer in the crosshairs. There was nothing else inside the Council Room—except the long stone table in the middle—so her steps were echoing the walls. Tall columns carved with mythical beasts rose so high to the dark ceiling, she couldn't see the far end. Eliza had never seen such beasts before as the ones carved on the columns: eagle heads, dragons, winged horses, even men with beastly legs. Her father once told her that such beasts actually roamed that land but shut off in the mountains when men came conquering.
Huge torches, flames rising high, surrounding each column and mounted in stone carved niches, were lighting up the windowless room.
Eliza finally met the Nine Wise. Beards hanging to the ground, they sat down around the table, each one on the same place they have occupied for tens of years. Constantin was sitting at one end of the table and the Prince at the other, his leg supported by two chairs and a wooden crane in the shape of a snake. When Eliza showed up, the whole room was caught in the uproar, the Wise Men whispering in their beards.
'Silence!' said Constantin in a thundering voice, knocking his crane three times on the floor.
Eliza headed to the semicircle lined up in front of the table which was the place for the one who the Council was summoned for. It was a narrow stone podium, right in front of the table. The whole setting looked like a stage for an audience, only this audience wasn't there to cheer.
Her slow walk to the place took almost forever, and when she got there, she was almost panting. She straightened up her cape carefully, so the hood didn't upset the hair lock on her forehead.
That is when she saw the Prince watching her, like the day before.
Constantin, who observed the Prince's reaction, was the first to speak:
'Honoured Council, we are gathered here today to reveal before Princess Mara the secret prophecy from the Book of Ancestors.'
Again the room was loud in the uproar.
'This is revolting,' cried one of the Wise Men, a thin old man with a hunched back. 'The Ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they knew a woman, a child even, would be attending the most well-kept secrets of the Council,' he said raising a gnarled finger.
'Seraphim, you stop this at once!' said Constantin firmly. 'This is the wish of our Prince, our Master, and we shall fulfil his wish.'
Seraphim was stuck with his finger raised and his mouth opened. His words were choked in his throat, and a nasty cough sprung out instead. Constantin tried to speak but realised he couldn't make himself heard over the loud coughing. After Seraphim's cough was over, quiet descended again and the voice of Constantin could be heard echoing the room.
'Bring forward the Book of Ancestors!'
One of the younger Wise Men—although Eliza suspected he was no younger than eighty years old—stood up and walked towards the far end of the room. Unfortunately, although it was consuming her faster than a mouse could consume a hunk cheese, Eliza couldn't follow him all the way, for this was not properly accepted. So she looked up fixing a rotting beam. After much crackling and banging, the Wise Man came back dragging a heavy old chest. Eliza would have loved it if she could look inside that chest, to uncover old secrets out of a mortal's reach.
After looking inside, the Wise Man pulled out a big book with thick covers made of leather; he put it in the middle of the table, inside a carving that fitted it perfectly. The book opened in a cloud of dust and Seraphim, who was sitting right in front of it, looked through a round piece of glass that Eliza had never seen before, but which she knew it was called a mono-something. Constantin looked around, then approved with a grave gesture. Seraphim stood up slowly, cleared his throat, but a cough turned so bad, it seemed to never end. Finally, after almost everybody had lost all patience, Seraphim came to his senses, and with the most dramatic expression he could muster, he started reading in his old voice, struggling to speak as loud as possible.
'Most illuminated gathering,' he said looking over everyone's faces except Eliza's, 'I will read the prophecy left to us by our ancestors since the dawn of time. Those listening must take a vow of silence. A vow that none of these words are to leave the space of this room! For a single word is enough to unleash great wrath across the Kingdom.' This time, Seraphim looked Eliza in the eyes to show he was not content with her presence in such a solemn gathering.
'The Prophecy,' he continued, 'is centuries old, but looking at the signs of the last years, I'm afraid it is about to come true.' Then, Seraphim bent over the book and, like possessed, he started reading in a grave, hoarse voice, his eyes wide open looking in a fixed point in front of him.
'The Prophecy reads: When the King's son a man shall become, That's when the Shadows will come. Spells only with spells can be destroyed. Then, the Hidden Princess will sing And we shall all cheer, but find no joy.
'Well, this Prophecy is a riddle many have tried to solve,' interrupted Constantin before Seraphim could offer the audience his own opinion. 'It is not a question of when the Shadows will come rushing. Next spring, His Highness, the Prince, will have his twenty-first birthday, thus becoming a man. But as for who the Hidden Princess is, that the prophecy says will bring our redemption, we know nothing. When will she come among us? And if not, how are we to find her? This is the riddle we must unlock.'
Eliza listened no more. Three words echoed in her mind: the Hidden Princess. She was the false, hidden princess. This thought made her whole body shiver. What was her role in this story? What other surprises were to come?
The room was trembling again with disapproval. This time, the Prince was the one to calm things down.
'I don't think we should put the emphasis on the princess, whoever she might be. One thing is certain—the Shadows will return next spring. There's no time to waste. The army which I'm assembling for ten years straight must grow! At any cost! At the cost of conquering new kingdoms, new countries, no matter how small! No army is big enough to challenge the Shadows. That's why we should outnumber them!'
The room was filled with hubbub and shouts again. Eliza was vainly trying to make herself heard since no one was considering her struggle for attention.
Then, the girl decided to do what no one in the Kingdom ever dared to do—break the rules. She decided to come down from the podium and approach the table of the Wise. As if charmed, everyone fell silent, flabbergasted by such boldness.
'Listen to me, please!' begged Eliza when the racket was gone.
The Wise were on the verge of protesting again, but a sign from the Prince prevented them from doing so.
'Let her speak!' he demanded.
Eliza gained courage and continued: 'Why must we conquer new lands, shed more innocent blood only to defend ourselves? Wouldn't it be better to find allies? The Shadows are just as dangerous for neighbouring countries. They will never stop. They will come upon them one by one until the whole world will give in to them.'
For the first time, everyone present was listening. The Prince himself was giving into deep thoughts, his chin buried in the palm of his hand. Eliza was gaining momentum.
'Why not invite the neighbouring countries to join us in this great battle? And the ones already conquered would fight for us to regain their freedom. Setting them free will make them our biggest allies. How else could they gratify for the freedom we grant them? I'm sure that, in front of such a great threat, they will follow through without second thoughts.'
Eliza finished her speech and stepped back to the podium, waiting.
'Thank you, Princess,' said the Prince. 'I shall discuss this with the commanders of my armies and set up a new plan of a fight. Of defense. Now, you must leave the room and never speak a word of what was discussed here. A woman should not be dealing with this kind of manly matters.'
This time, Eliza did not protest. The first battle was already won.
Thank you for joining Eliza on this mysterious, dangerous adventure! She is halfway of finding out the truth about herself and protecting the ones she loves. Please vote and let me know what you think about this story so far! Thank you!